


Bob

by westandvigilant



Series: O How the Mighty Fall in Love [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6651139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westandvigilant/pseuds/westandvigilant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>éponine gets a dog and enjolras gets jealous</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bob

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill.

_(Enjolras’ dissertation revisions and his decision to not bring work home were wearing on them both._

_Of course, any time he asked her about it, he got a barely coherent: “Oh no, do what you gotta do, dude. It’s important and, you know, stuff…”_

_Then again that might have been because he only asked when he slunk into the apartment around 3 or 4 in morning.)_

 

His side of the sink is a mess. Toothpaste slung across the countertop. A completely untouched electric razor.  An open well of hair product shoved into the corner, sticky and collecting dust, save for two ever deepening finger-sized swipes. The only real evidence that Enjolras is ever there at all.

It is a really sad sign when Éponine can be considered the clean one. Especially when she isn’t without her own newly produced bad habits. The couch has become her island. Potato chip crumbs litter the carpet. Too many pillows and blankets. Dishes stand in stacks higher than a small child. And if loneliness has a smell, it is Funyuns and menthols.

_(So, long story short, Bob was his idea.)_

He sneaks in through their front door around 3:30 in the AM and the living room is completely clean. Spotless, even. A sitcom plays unwatched on the television. But even in the midst of carefully folded blankets and shining surfaces, there was something different. The smell should have been antiseptic, but it was just musty enough for him to notice.

Éponine shoots up from behind the couch as Enjolras is lifting his messenger bag over his head. A bright flash from the television blanches out her features so that only her large eyes and raised eyebrows are truly visible. The look of kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar. His eyebrows knit and a confused frown skews the line of his mouth.

“Were you laying on the floor?”

“His name is Bob.”

He lets the bag drop to the floor and he takes a step towards her with a question that actually sounds like a warning: “Who is Bob?”

A round of canned studio laughter bursts from the speakers as Éponine slowly produces a small wad of fur and legs from behind the couch. The little furball takes one look at Enjolras and begins to bark uncontrollably, filling the tiny space with even tinier yips and yowls.

“This is Bob,” she says casually.

_(His exact words had been something to the effect of: “You know, maybe you should consider finding something for you to occupy your time with when you get home from work.”_

_What he had meant was that maybe she should take a class or do some painting._

_Start a project.)_

Bob trots along ahead of them, leash taut, his little tail wagging high and proud for everyone to see. A kid with dreadlocks and huge headphones even stops Éponine to tell her how “that is a totally adorable dog, man.” Then he asks her for her number and Enjolras nearly screams because, seriously, he is standing right there. But Éponine laughs it off and continues walking Bob around the quad, cooing about how well his leash training is going.

Enjolras’ phone dings with a frantic email from a student begging for a meeting immediately and he pretends, very poorly, that he is very upset by this unfortunate happening. But waltzing around the quad being ignored in favor of a freaking dog wasn’t how he had wanted to spend his precious lunch hour anyhow.

_(He didn’t mean for her to go buy a Goddamn dog. An ever present dog.)_

“Are you asleep?” He asks, closing the bedroom door as quietly as possible.

The streetlights slip through the blinds and outline her figure in the large bed. She’s a veritable mess of blankets and long hair, her bare feet poking out from underneath a twisted sheet. A sleep thick chuckle is her reply, a rough sound that twinkled with suggestion and rasped with seduction. It makes the breath catch in his throat and his heart knot in his chest.

His clothes are on the floor in a matter of seconds and he hops into bed behind her, but instead of her cool skin he gets a mouthful of dog fur. Bob yelps helplessly and dives from the mattress, sending Éponine crashing to the floor with a string of expletives.

“Why is Bob sleeping in the bed?” Enjolras complains, scrubbing a hand over his tired face. Now Éponine’s reply is quick and flippant as she gathers Bob up in her arms and climbs back into bed.

“Because I wanted him to.”

_(A dog that required time and effort from the both of them.)_

He wants to sleep. Nothing but coffee is pumping through his veins. His glasses had felt like they were pinching his brain in half, so he’s staring at Bob half blind, but not too blind to see that the dog has stationed himself in front of the door with his leash in his mouth.

The least Éponine could have done before she ran to the store to get dog food was actually walk the dog.

_(A dog that brings them closer together.)_

He slides into bed even later than usual, 6:12 AM, to be exact and she greets him with a sullen ‘good morning’. As soon as he’s settled, she sidles into his arms, placing her back against his stomach and his chin on top of her shoulder. Enjolras squeezes her tightly, closing any space that might have been separating them, and inhales the scent of her, lavender and sandalwood.

“I have to take Bob in for surgery next week.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “They just want to remove his dew claws because they aren’t ‘necessary’ and they might get, like, stuck on something and hurt him. But they still have to put him under.”

Bob jumps onto the bed in front of Éponine and curls into her stomach. She keeps muttering on about it, repeating the phrases ‘routine procedure’ and ‘nothing to worry about’, but something that looks dangerously like a tear draws a silvery track down her cheek.

“I’ll cancel my classes for that day and go in with you, okay?”

She huffs and puffs that he is making a big deal out of nothing, but the way she sniffles the whole time is simply a testament to his choice. And Bob’s wet nose nudging at his hand stands as a silent thank you. An understanding. A gentlemen’s agreement between man and dog.

_(A dog that makes them a family.)_

For the third time in a week, Enjolras manages to come home before dinner time. Sure, he has to spend another two hours hunched over his laptop revising a chapter, but he’d rather do it here.

Naturally, there are distractions. Éponine shooing Bob away from the trashcan. The deafening clatter as she runs into the television while they play fetch. Éponine planting a kiss on Enjolras’ earlobe whenever she walks through the dining room. Bob laying his head in Enjolras’ lap, begging for a scratch between the ears.

But maybe that’s the reason why he prefers to be here. Maybe that’s what makes it home.


End file.
